


Love Thine Enemy

by AveryWritesStuff



Category: MASH (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 05:54:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11098293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AveryWritesStuff/pseuds/AveryWritesStuff
Summary: Hawkeye and Frank are forced to wait out the night together after their jeep breaks down and find they aren't so different after all.





	Love Thine Enemy

The wake-up call rang out over the camp's PA system and Frank Burns jumped out of his bed. He stood and stretched.

“Come on, you two lazybones. Wake-up call!” He shouted over at the two sleeping captains that also occupied his tent.

“Frank.” Trapper murmured from underneath his blanket. “If you don't shut up I'm gonna come over there and make you.” He rolled over to face the wall of the tent.

“Both of you shut up.” Hawkeye said angrily. “I want to get back to my blonde before breakfast.”

Frank's mouth dropped open. “You're filthy!” He said with disgust.

A knock came on the door as Frank was pulling on his uniform.

“Sirs?” Radar's timid voice called out.

“Go away, Radar.” Hawkeye and Trapper answered simultaneously.

“What do you want?” Frank asked coldly.

Radar entered the tent. “Colonel Blake wants to see you, Sir. You too, Hawkeye.” He went to Hawkeye's cot and pulled the blanket away from him. Radar shook him gently.

Hawkeye shoved his head underneath his pillow. “Tell him I don't do house calls.”

With a sigh, Radar shook him a little harder. “Hawk, please.” He insisted.

The little corporal didn't mind so much bothering Frank. Nobody did, really. Some people, like Hawkeye and Trapper, went out of their way to bother him. But Radar considered Hawkeye to be one of his few real friends so he didn't like having to make him get out of bed early for military business.

“Alright. Alright.” Hawkeye waved him away. “What does he want?” He sat up and rubbed at his eyes.

“He found a few cases of morphine for us and he needs someone to go get it. You and the Major were on the duty roster for the day.” Radar explained as he handed Hawkeye his robe.

“Don't tell me I have to go with him!” Frank cried.

“Yes, sir. Colonel's orders.”

“Baloney!” He pouted.

“Are you coming?” Radar turned his attention away from Frank before he could loose his wrath on him.

“Yeah. In a minute Radar. Go on.” Hawkeye sighed deeply. He waved him away out of the tent and lay back down on his cot. He reached over the edge of the cot and felt around under it for his boots. He sat up when he'd found them and dropped them on the floor, stuck his feet into them without tying the laces.

“Come on, Ferret Face. Let's get this over with.” He stood and pushed out through the door. Frank hopped after him, one boot in his hand.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I still can't believe I'm stuck with _you_.” Frank said bitterly.

He was sitting in the passenger seat of the jeep as they rattled down the road away from the 8076th. Hawkeye had refused to ride back in the jeep with Frank driving again, so Frank was forced to move over. He had been griping the whole trip and Hawkeye had to keep his eyes focused straight ahead to keep from hitting him.

Hawkeye's grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles were white. He pressed a little harder on the accelerator. The sooner they got the morphine back to camp the sooner Hawkeye could get away from Frank.

“Slow down, will you?” Frank's voice rose in pitch.

“Frank, I don't like this any more than you do. We're almost home. So be quiet and let's get this over with, alright?” Hawkeye snapped. He exhaled quickly.

“Fine by me, pal!” Frank crossed his arms over his chest.

Neither one spoke for the next few minutes. They both kept their eyes on the road ahead as they bumped along. Except for the supply trucks and jeeps that ran from camp to camp and the occasional villager few people traveled this route. It was quiet and had it not been for Frank, Hawkeye would have enjoyed the drive.

A loud bang shattered the quiet as the jeep shuddered. It backfired again and began to sputter and stall.

“Dammit!” Hawkeye smacked the steering wheel.

The needle on the fuel gauge indicated the tank was empty. Hawkeye pulled off to the edge of the road where the jeep gave a final lurch and the engine died. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on the wheel.

“What is it?” Frank asked. “Why have we stopped?” He reached for the sidearm he had insisted upon bringing and scanned the area for enemy soldiers.

“We're out of gas.” Hawkeye said with despair.

“Out of gas?” Frank echoed. “Well, what do we do now?”

Hawkeye shook his head. He climbed out of the jeep and dug around in the back hoping to find a Jerry can, but the rack was empty. In his frustration, he gave the back tire a solid kick.

“We sit here and hope someone comes along before dark.”

“What happens when it gets dark?” Frank looked up at the sky and noted that the sun was no longer directly overhead. It would be dusk soon.

Hawkeye gave him a dirty look. “It gets dark, Frank.” He said flatly.

“Don't get snippy with me! I'm not the one that didn't take the jeep with the full tank.”

“Oh, no, no.” Hawkeye shook his head. He walked around the jeep and pointed an accusing finger at Frank. “You don't get to blame this on me, Frank Burns.”

“I don't like your attitude, Captain.” Frank narrowed his eyes and puffed out his chest. “Don't forget that I am a Major. I outrank you and I think I deserve a little more respect from you.” He raised his voice.

“Go to hell, Frank!” Hawkeye shouted.

Hawkeye turned his back to Frank and leaned against the side of the jeep. He folded his arms and stared off into the trees. It was bad enough that he was stuck out here with Frank. He didn't need to have the Army nonsense stacked on top of him.

Frank climbed out of the jeep and walked about 20 feet down the road. He shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted.

“Where are you going?” Hawkeye called.

Frank wheeled around. “One of us can walk back to camp and send another jeep.

With a scoff, Hawkeye shook his head. “Too far. 50 miles at least. Face it, Frank. We're stuck here.”

He turned and looked at the cases of morphine sitting in the back. A frown creased his forehead. They'd run dangerously low on the drug after a push at the front had filled the OR. Their supplies had been delayed by the push and weren't expected to get through to them for another week at least.

The 8076th had been generous enough to part with some of theirs providing someone could pick up the cases and that 4077th returned the same amount when the supplies came through. It was necessary barter system that all the camps in the area took part it. It wasn't unusual to trade films for food or to swap supplies when HQ sent too many of one item to a camp and not enough to another.

But the generosity could go to waste if they didn't get back in time. Hawkeye himself had worked on a few patients that were in bad shape. They'd had to ration the remaining morphine and those boys were doing their best to keep brave faces through the pain, but pain hindered the healing process. It made sleeping difficult and it drained their energy.

Hawkeye sighed. All they could do now was wait.

“Come on, Frank.” He called, having calmed down a little. “We might as well bunk down for now.” He pulled a blanket and his bag from behind his seat.

He spread the blanket out over the hood of the jeep and opened his bag. He removed a sleeve of crackers and a small tin of jam from his rations. Hawkeye climbed onto the hood and sat cross-legged to eat his snack.

Frank stalked over, hands in his pockets, and regarded the food hungrily. He retrieved his own field bag and pulled out his ration pack. He sank down next to the jeep and sat in the dirt.

“Frank. You don't have to sit down there.” Hawkeye peered down at him.

“Oh, now you want me to buddy up and eat with you, huh?” Frank sneered.

“Don't be difficult, Frank. Come on.” Hawkeye patted the jeep. “I'm sorry, alright?” He tilted his head. Frank may be the biggest jerk he knew, but Hawkeye did feel a little bad for yelling at him.

Hesitantly, Frank gathered up his bag and his rations and joined Hawkeye on the jeep. They ate in silence and watched as the sunlight began to fade. When they'd finished, Hawkeye perked up.

“Care for a little dessert?” He asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“What dessert?” Frank asked suspiciously.

Hawkeye held up a finger. He pulled his bag onto his lap and dug out a silver flask. “Good old Trap.” He patted the flask. “He always packs the best lunches.”

“Leave it to you to bring booze, Pierce!”

“If you don't want any that's fine. More for me.” Hawkeye uncapped it and took a large swig. He sighed contentedly. He held the flask out toward Frank, who shook his head. “Come on, Frank. Lighten up. One taste.” He insisted.

“Well...” Frank regarded it. He looked around him as if somebody were watching. Then he reached out, took the flask, and tilted it back into his mouth. He coughed and sputtered.

Hawkeye laughed brightly. “Atta boy, Frank!” He clapped Frank on the back.

Frank licked his lips and looked at the flask with wonder. “You know, this stuff's not so bad.” He took another swig and came away coughing. He pushed it back at Hawkeye.

Together they took turns sipping from the flask until they'd emptied it. They lay back on the hood and stared up at the darkened sky. Frank was giggling to himself and Hawkeye was grinning.

“Is this what you do at home, Pierce?” Frank turned to look at Hawkeye.

“What? Drink?” He asked, confused. Frank nodded. “Well, it's not all I do.”

“What _do_ you do?” He asked with wonder. “This is all I've ever seen you do.”

Hawkeye chuckled. “I dunno.” He shrugged. “I fish with dad. Go for drives.” His smiled faded a little and he blinked up at the sky, looking far away.

“That sounds nice.” Frank nodded.

“What do you do, Frank Burns?”

“Me?” He thought for a moment. “You know, I don't do anything?” Frank said with worry.

“What do you mean?” Hawkeye looked at him. “You have to do something. What do you have to look forward to when this is all over and we go home?”

“Well,” Frank thought deeply. He wrung his hands nervously and shook his head. “Louise wants to repaint the house.”

Hawkeye sat up and stared at him in the dim light. He sputtered. “That's your big plan?” A laugh erupted from his throat.

“Alright, what are your big plans?” Frank sat up next to him.

The laughter stopped. “I--” Hawkeye blinked. What the hell did he plan to do? There was the hospital if he decided to go back. He could spend the rest of his days fishing – he'd sent enough of his pay back home for his father to put into the bank that he could retire early. Other than that, what did he have?

He realised with horror that he had less to do than Frank. At least Frank had a wife and a mistress to go back to. As long as he didn't bungle a surgery too badly he'd have a job, too.

“I have plenty to do.” He lied thinly. “You must be glad to go back to your wife.” Hawkeye cleared his through and deflected back to Frank.

“Louise?” Frank laughed nervously. “I haven't been glad to see her in years. Not since we got married.”

“Why don't you get a divorce?” Hawkeye asked seriously.

“She'd take every penny I've got.” Frank shook his head and sighed sadly. “My yacht and my house are in her name. Hell, she'd take the dog.” He said bitterly.

“Are you serious, Frank?”

Frank nodded but didn't speak. His thoughts were back in Fort Wayne and with Louise. He thought about the country club and about the hospital at which he'd worked before the war. Frank doubted he could even go back there. His skills as a surgeon simply weren't as good as the younger doctors' were. He would be out of business before he knew it.

“I only have the war to keep me going.” He said softly. And Margaret, he thought.

Margaret. What would he do without her? How could he go back home and lay down in bed with Louise every night while Margaret was on his mind. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Come on, Frank.” Hawkeye said tiredly. He laid back down. “It can't be as bad as that.” He did his best to sound convincing, though he didn't believe his own words. Frank had really meant it. The war was all he had.

“Well,” Frank conceded. “I do have this receptionist...”

“Ooh, Frank!” Hawkeye laughed raunchily. “You dog, you.”

“Pierce.” Frank tried to sound offended, but he couldn't hide the pleasure in his voice. The thought of the young woman made him shiver. “I suppose you have a line of women just waiting for you.”

“What makes you think that?” Hawkeye asked with surprise.

“Come on. The way you play with all those nurses. We all see it, you know.”

Hawkeye paused. That was the problem. They all saw it, especially the women. Most of the nurses here didn't care because they knew it didn't mean anything. Everyone here was lonely. But back home the girls all expected long, loving relationships and he had never been very good at keeping them. The men he knew often weren't as committed and were alright with a quick, playful relationship.

“I guess I'm just not the marrying type.” He muttered.

He suspected he would always be doomed to living the life of the bachelor, never settling down with any single man or woman. It saddened him to think he might never know the joy of going to bed with the same person every night. Of having their first child. Or their second. Not that he could openly have a life with another man, but the thought was still a pleasant one.

Both men lay on the jeep, staring up at the open sky and contemplating their lives. For that brief time, Hawkeye and Frank realised they weren't so different. As it was with everyone here, they had two lives. The one back home that they'd left on hold that was moving on by without them in their absence and the dream life they were living now. The dream life filled with sex and booze and with endless hours of surgery.

But all dreams had to come to an end. For the first time since he arrived, Hawkeye wondered if he really wouldn't be better off if the war never ended. If he could keep the dream going. Hawkeye sighed deeply and shut his eyes tightly.

“Well,” Hawkeye said after what felt like an hour had passed, “Let's get some sleep.”

They both slid off the jeep. Hawkeye wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and climbed into his seat in the front of the jeep. Frank collected the other blanket from the back and did the same.

Without another word they drifted off to sleep.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The rumbling of an engine startled them both awake. An ambulance drove slowly down the road toward them. The driver beeped the horn.

“Hey!” Hawkeye shouted gleefully. He stood on the seat and waved his arms. “Cavalry's here, Frank!” He jumped down and walked toward it.

The ambulance stopped and the driver hopped down.

“What are you boys doing out here?” He asked.

Hawkeye jerked a thumb toward the jeep. “We ran out of gas yesterday. Can you give us a lift back to our unit?”

“I really have to get my pickup done.” The driver looked dubious. “But I have an extra can of gas I can give you.”

“That's great. Thank you!” Hawkeye nodded.

He went with the driver to retrieve the can. Hawkeye emptied the can into the jeep and handed it back to the man. He thanked him again and he and Frank waved to the ambulance as it rumbled away, horn beeping again.

“What are you waiting for?” Frank asked impatiently. “Let's get this thing moving.” He smacked the hood of the jeep with his hand.

Hawkeye didn't waste any time arguing with him. He climbed into the jeep and turned the ignition. The engine turned over and sputtered to life. They looked at each other and shared a smile as the jeep roared off down the road.

“Pierce! Slow down!” Frank cried.

 


End file.
